


A Game of Shadows

by WinterCricket



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 17:36:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13769121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterCricket/pseuds/WinterCricket
Summary: What if the scene with Keir in the Hewn City had ended with Feyre getting her own revenge for his insult? ;)Quick oneshot slight plot divergence of Chapter 42 in ACoMAF





	A Game of Shadows

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, whore.”

Night exploded into the room.

But not from Rhys.

No, this magic was entirely my own. 

Half the crowd cried out in surprise, the other half was too surprised by my outburst to react at all. Even Cassian looked surprised, his eyes flicking from me to Rhys and back again. I turned slowly, and Rhys met my gaze, his eyes glittering with something like pride. _He’s all yours, darling,_ came his soft murmur down the bond, curling around my magic and purring in awe.

I couldn’t help but allow myself a lazy smile as I wiped away the darkness with a sweep of my hand, walking calmly back to the throne and perching again on Rhys’ lap. His hand immediately rested back on my waist, though this time his touch was for reassurance, not show.

Keir watched us both with barely-concealed disgust, and I felt my anger rise to meet it, rearing its head within my breast like a beast held captive for too long. _How can I punish him?_ I wondered down the bond, meeting the steward’s eyes with steely rage.

_I’d rather you left me a Steward,_ he chuckled, his fingers tracing idle circles on my skin. _They’re quite tedious to replace, you see._

I only smiled, and sent a wave of darkness towards the crowd. They all flinched, but only Keir was struck by it, sent backwards so he was sprawled on the cold floor, his wrists pinned to it by cords of shadow. He struggled for a moment, then seemed to realise what was coming, and froze, straining to watch me as I stood again, slowly making my way down the dais towards him.

“I didn’t quite catch what you said then, Steward,” I said to him, voice brimming with naivety. I paused a step away from him, my fury still evident in my eyes. “Care to repeat yourself?”

Keir, to his credit, didn’t back down, meeting my gaze with his own. “You heard what I said,” he spat at me. “Whore.”

Pure fury rolled down the bond as he repeated the word, and I could feel Rhys itching to punish the man at my feet. He didn’t move though, only watching what I would do next. In the crowd, Mor had materialised, watching her father with smug satisfaction. Even Azriel, shadowing her every move, showed no intention of stopping me.

A flick of my hand conjured a blade of shadow in my hand, its edge singing through the air as I swept it downwards, scraping the edge along the floor between his legs before stopping it perilously close to the point where they met. I gave him a lazy smile, inching it closer. He twisted away, fighting to move away from the threat, but I only pinned his legs with such violence that his bones creaked audibly beneath the strain.

“That’s no way to talk to a guest of your High Lord, Steward.” I said, my voice velvet concealing the daggers beneath. I was channeling Rhys now, acting as I imagined he might, and I felt his approval flicker down the bond. I was doing well. “Apologise.” My voice was pure command, uncaring of who might see or hear the power I held within me.

Still, Keir refused, the muscles in his neck straining as he struggled to not express the pain that was undoubtedly rolling through him. The blade scraped closer, shadows licking at his legs in their eagerness to cause him harm. The shadows were constructed of pure rage; they were an extension of me. The bonds tightened, and his bones groaned in reply. One finally snapped, the crack echoing through the cavernous silence of the hall, and he shrieked in pain. Another followed, and another, and he was suddenly screaming, tears streaming from his eyes. They were half rage, if the look he gave me was any indication.

The bonds tightened. The shadow-blade crept ever-closer, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. Another bone splintered.

“Forgive me!” Keir suddenly howled, his voice cracking with the pain.

Instantly, the bonds were gone, the blade fading into nothing. I turned and walked towards Cassian again, only glancing at Rhys long enough to exchange a glance. Pride and awe radiated from him, and I couldn’t help but smile at him.

Behind me, Rhys stood from the throne, advancing on Keir with his hands in his pockets, the picture of calm. “When you wake up, you’re not to see healer. If I hear that you do…” Another crack as Rhys broke something else. “If I heard that you do, I’ll carve you into pieces and bury them where no one can stand a chance of putting you together again.” Keir gasped, then sagged against the cold floor, unconscious - no doubt Rhys’ doing.

The High Lord of the Night Court waved his arm dismissively. “Dump him in his room.”

Two men swept the Steward away, and the crowd uneasily dispersed, the party continuing as if nothing had happened. I could only watch as Rhys returned to his throne and summoned some other courtier to take Keir’s place. A wave of pride sailed down the bond, and I met it with a mirrored show of gratitude and thanks. 

_Thank you,_ I said to him quietly, smiling at him across the throne room.

_No thanks necessary, Feyre darling,_ he whispered back to me, his gaze flickering to meet mine for an instant, his eyes glimmering beneath the cold mask. _You were exquisite._


End file.
